


Stitch Me Up

by whitechimes



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Fashion Designer Louis, M/M, PWP, Power Bottom Louis, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 00:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4500312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitechimes/pseuds/whitechimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It is eight minutes to the start of the Dunhill show and Nick has fucking gone and ripped the bloody zipper on his trousers.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>or </p><p>Nick goes back to Louis' hotel room after a stressful show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stitch Me Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Intenselouis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intenselouis/gifts).



> Wellllllllll. This all happened because I love [ Alice ](%E2%80%9Dintenselouis.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) an insane amount and she deserves nice things. Even if those nice things include Tomlinshaw, which I do not ship, nor have I ever read or written. YIKES! So if this whole thing is super weird, that's why. 
> 
> This is absolutely fiction and I do not own anything. With that said, the story itself does belong to me. PLEASE do not repost this anywhere and definitely do not send this to the boys. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It is eight minutes to the start of the Dunhill show and Nick has fucking gone and ripped the bloody zipper on his trousers. He turns his back to the cramped corner he had quickly found to inspect the damage and scans the controlled chaos, searching for Louis. Nick spots him steaming a waistcoat in the back of their curtained off prep area and starts making his way over, his black and grey tartan wool [coat](http://s10.postimg.org/nzqjoj7nt/461352856.jpg) rubbing up against everybody he passes. With every movement of his long strides in his navy blue suit, he can feel more and more stitches popping open. By the time he reaches Louis, the zipper is beyond salvageable. Nick cocks his right hip exaggeratedly before cupping Louis’ shoulder to gently turn him around.

 

He pastes on a mixed expression that is part smug, part stressed. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it seems to be one of those times where having a massive cock is not entirely welcome.” Nick stares into Louis’ neutral face before glancing down at this groin. Louis follows the gesture, surveys the damage, and whips his head back up to Nick’s face.

 

Louis clenches his jaw and swiftly drops to his knees, grabbing a travel sewing kit from his shirt pocket.

 

“You fucker.” Louis hisses, using the provided scissors to remove the zipper from the trousers. “You just can not stop being a pain in my arse for five goddamn minutes, even on the opening night of the collection, can you?”

 

“I am nothing if not consistent, sweet cheeks.” Nick replies with a wink.

 

Louis stops stitching abruptly and jerks his chin upwards.

 

“You sure you wanna piss me off when I have a sharp object right next to your dick?”

 

Nick cracks his neck first to the left, then to the right. “I have faith you’ll take good care of it, if you want to use it later.”

 

Louis resumes his precise stitchwork, leaning forward as if to examine his needle piercing the expensive fabric.  “You are one pompous bastard, you know that?” His eyes track the tip of the needle emerging on the other side of the torn fabric, before inching his mouth closer to Nick’s crotch. Louis’ hot breath softly ghosts over the tear in the pristine fabric in a controlled stream, before panting heavily and assaulting his trapped cock all at once. Louis observes Nick clenching his fists next to his side, mentally smirking to himself as he adjusts the small needle pinched between his fingers and starts the next stitch.

 

“We have quite the positive track record.” Nick’s voice cuts off as Louis calmy drags the tip of his needle expertly down a small strip of skin on the right side of Nick’s dick. Nick sharply inhales a gulp of air and continues, “I’m not pompous, I just know how you tick.” He finishes on a controlled exhale of air.

 

The two halves of the fabric are clasped together in his left hand as Louis focuses intently on the last few stitches. Pierce the needle on one half, push it through the other side, grasp the tip of the needle, pull the thread through securely and repeat on the opposite side. In the process, Louis alternates his sewing with hot targeted breaths, the warmth of Louis’ breath enveloping Nick’s senses and setting him even more on edge for his impending catwalk.

 

“You trying to cause a scene, Lou?” Nick peeks over his left shoulder at his fellow colleagues that are beginning to gather near the entrance of the runway. “I am not above ripping these trousers again to sneak a quickie.”

 

Louis expertly ties a knot in the thread and severs it with his teeth in one rapid motion. He stands to his full height, the shoulders of his petite body curving inwards with either signs of stress or exhaustion, Nick can’t really tell at this point, and doubts Louis can, either.

 

Louis directs his calculated stare at him, complete with an unimpressed quirk of his eyebrow.

 

“Have you forgotten that I can end your career with a simple text to the right people?” Louis palms over the bulge of his phone in his pocket. “What a shame that would be.”

 

Nick merely hums in reply, a motion catching his eye. A young tanned [woman](https://41.media.tumblr.com/49b749db3577e5afa09d31befe069e46/tumblr_noocz43bnk1t0qsxgo2_400.jpg) gestures to him with a clipboard and an authoritative look on her golden face. Dressed simply, but smartly, in a black fitted dress and matching high heels, she announces, with an English influenced French accent, a two minute warning to the room and repeats the same into a headset that is fixed amongst her dark wavy hair.

 

“Your deft hands are always much appreciated, sweet cheeks.” Nick says with a quick bow of his head.

 

Louis smooths down the navy blue and maroon tie of Nick’s look. “Get your arse in line, I swear to God.” Louis nips. “I’ll deal with you later.”

 

\---

 

At the conclusion of the show, models and designers alike gather at a nearby hotel reserved by the British Fashion Council for their hosted after party. The decor of their private upper floor is all sleek slate walls and shiny silver accents.  Louis finds the whole thing pretentious. His thoughts are confirmed when he hears Nick’s honking laugh from the middle of a group of equally snobby people.

 

Louis has socialised for well over an hour with reporters and the executives of several fashion houses, the alcohol from his champagne doing nothing to calm his nerves and stress that inevitably worms its way into his veins with the debut of each new line every season. He gives himself a mental pat on the back for surviving the night barely scathed. He tips his head back to finish off his glass, places it on the bar, and is ready for his overdue compensation. He leans against the bar with his legs spread suggestively in his snug heather grey trousers and shoots down everybody who tries to approach him. He stares intently at Nick’s profile, knowing the heated attention of his gaze will get Nick to look at him in a matter of moments.

 

Predictably, a striking ebony woman steps away from Nick’s circle and in her absence, Nick quickly locks eyes with Louis. A subtle tilt of Louis’ head, followed by him pushing himself off of the bar and exiting the room, is all Nick needs to flamboyantly excuse himself from his group and make his way to the lifts.

 

As Louis presses the down floor button, Nick swaggers over to the opening doors and hip checks Louis.

 

“C’mon then. I haven’t got all night.”

 

The ride down the four floors is spent with Louis removing his dark, inky double breasted suit [jacket](http://s23.postimg.org/refnv47jf/tumblr_ns2arwdi_Gp1utgxfmo1_500.png) and looping it over his left forearm, his bloodshot eyes dimly reflecting back to him in the clear glass walls of the lift. Nick fiddles with the hem of his cream patterned scarf. Louis catches Nick’s face softening at his quiet demeanor, the events of the day manifesting themselves in the stiffness of Louis’ neck and shoulders. He quickly huffs at Nick’s empathy and uses Nick’s momentary weakness to sharply flick his earlobe with his thumb and middle finger, the air in the lift returning to a more lighthearted level.

 

Before Nick can retaliate, the doors ping open and Louis darts in the direction of his room, the echo of his laughter the only indicator that he had occupied the lift.

 

By the time Nick gracefully reaches Louis, he is already digging out his keycard from his wallet. He inserts the card for his eighth floor room, waits for it to beep green, turns the handle, and allows Nick to pass through the entryway first. His curtains are still wide open from when he had been there earlier that morning, granting the glow of the bright moon to guide his path to a bedside table lamp and switching it on.

 

Louis drapes his jacket over the back of a black leather chair. Nick’s shoes clink against the warm hardwood floor as he strolls the perimeter of the large [room](http://www.luxurylaunches.com/entry_images/0612/9/Bulgari-Hotel-London-3.jpg).

 

“Well...” he drawls out, “it’s not the poshest place we’ve fucked, but if this the best you can afford, I suppose it’ll do.” He remarks flippantly as he kicks off his worn shoes against the wall opposite of the king sized, before turning around and seeking out Louis’ eyes for permission.

 

“I get you work at half a dozen shows and suddenly you know what posh is? Ha!”

 

“My taste is superior, you know that, babe.”

 

“Y’know, you’re much better company when your mouth is on my arse, rather than talking shit.”

 

“Then let’s fix that, shall we?”

 

They stare at each competitively as they undress, Louis’ nimble fingers quickly undoing the buttons on his black shirt, compared to Nick’s lackadaisical approach. Louis shrugs off his shirt and drops it to the floor, making hurried work of his belt and trousers.

 

Nick’s scarf and shirt finally reach the floor by the time Louis is fully nude and placing a bottle of lube off to the side of the bed. Louis gives a shake of his arse before belly flopping onto the bed, a childish look on his face, and then rearranges himself.

 

With his feet dangling and knees inches away from the left edge of the bed, Louis rests the right side of his face against his folded arms and stares at the enormously fluffy white pillows, his arse proudly displayed into the air. This is secretly Nick’s favourite part, the part where Louis is on edge, waiting for him and his mouth. He loves that Louis allows himself to be stripped bare and on edge in those few calm moments, before taking charge for the rest of the night. Nick lets himself have another secret pause of filthy admiration, not bothering to undo his trousers, before dropping to his knees at Louis’ creamy opening. He places a thumb on each cool cheek to spread them apart and expose Louis further. The bulging apples of Nick’s cheeks from his wide grin against his cleft is the initial sensation Louis notices before the first broad, purposeful swipe from the thick flat of Nick’s tongue.

 

A shudder ripples through Louis’ body, accompanied by a slow exhale of air. It only serves as encouragement for Nick, who approaches Louis’ enticing opening with reverence. Nick is patient and thorough, slurping at the sharp scented spot in alternating swipes ranging from sweet and gentle to hungry and feverish. His hands stop spreading Louis open, the flesh of Louis’ arse softly slapping against Nick’s cheekbones. Nick’s hands continue to roam, the blunt of his fingernails leaving tiny traces of tingles down the swell of Louis’ arse as he gently claws at the skin. It is not hard enough to leave marks, yet, but it does elicit quiet moans from Louis’ squished mouth, the tiniest bit of drool escaping the corner of his lips and sliding down onto the middle of his forearm.

 

It is an unspoken token of care, Nick tenderly scratching the entire surface of Louis’ bum, like when children draw shapes and words on each other’s backs as a way to fight off boredom in church. Louis’ arse is a place of worship, and Nick is a faithful clergyman.

 

“Baby…” Louis hums faintly in pleasure, the fine hairs on his skin standing at attention.

 

Nick’s throat rumbles in response, his lips sealing tightly to Louis’ wet hole. His hands continue to travel over Louis’ body, switching from scratching to deep, purposeful massage strokes at his lower back as he works out Louis’ tight muscles. Louis’ spine threatens to curve in on itself from a mixture of pain and bliss, the ache in his back coming alive. The massage persists, the pads of Nick’s fingers digging into the tight muscles, feeling out the back ridge of Louis’ hip bone. He lengthens the muscles with practiced ease, maintaining his pressure until the muscle fibers reluctantly go pliant and supple.

 

Louis visibly relaxes, his thick cock erect and leaking clear sticky droplets onto the charcoal duvet. Nick’s hands shift to the front of Louis’ hipbones, resuming his scraping and tingling over the bump of Louis’ bone and near the crease of his thigh. His hands then grip Louis’ curves and pull him impossibly closer, Nick sucking in spicy air through his nostrils, his nose squished into Louis’ crevice.

 

The wet sounds echo in Nick’s ears, the flicking of his tongue increasing in speed and vigor. He removes his right hand and reaches down to the bottle of lube and pumps twice. The liquid is cold, but quickly warms up between the circling of his fingertips while his tongue starts poking for access at Louis’ opening. Pink muscle meets pink muscle, Nick’s tongue unrelenting in it’s quest to reach Louis’ velvety lining.  A slick tip of a finger pops past Louis’ rim, Louis’ whimpering growing louder and higher pitched. Nick slowly wiggles his index finger forward, determined to prep Louis thoroughly.

 

Louis is restless in front of Nick. Sweat dots his forehead where his hair is scrunched against his crossed arms, as well as dotting behind his knees, making his position difficult to uphold. Nick adds another finger, sensing Louis’ desperation, his varying bracelets rubbing up against Louis’ right cheek. They scissor methodically while his tongue twists and twirls, the varying rhythms driving Louis insane with their unpredictability as he fidgets on the bed.

 

“I’m ready.” Louis announces.

 

Nick pauses. “One more, then I’m all yours, sweet cheeks.” he muffles into Louis’ left arse cheek. Louis groans.

 

A third finger is added, circling inside of Louis and reaching every corner possible. Nick curls his fingers downwards in search of Louis’ prostate and is triumphant when Louis suddenly shouts, “Fuck!”. Nick bites sharply into the flesh of Louis’ arse as he continues to stimulate Louis’ firm spot. Louis nearly drops his bodyweight to the bed in an attempt to rut against the sheets, his building pleasure growing too strongly and too fast to ignore.

 

Finally, Nick eases off his rhythm and removes his sticky fingers from Louis’ puckered hole, strings of lube webbing between his digits. Louis stands up and stretches out his back, his palms placed on his lower section to deepen the stretch. He turns to face Nick, who has already taken off his trousers and briefs, unceremoniously.

 

Louis steps forward and reaches for Nick, their lips coming together in a familiar kiss. It is not often that they kiss, an implied understanding originating from their first time together. It doesn’t fit them and their agreement, but now and again the mood strikes. Louis places his hand on the flat of Nick’s stomach and travels upwards to his collarbones, relishing in the feel of Nick’s coarse body hair. Their bodies move together, Nick’s hardness poking near Louis’ navel.

 

They break apart after a moment, Nick climbing to the centre of the bed. He tears open a condom and rolls it down his shaft. Louis bends down and grabs Nick’s scarf with his left hand, while giving the bottle of lube three pumps with his right, before following onto the bed, situating himself on Nick’s firm thighs. Louis grips Nick’s cock confidently, giving his length a few appreciative strokes with his slippery hand.  

 

“You ready to dick me good?” Louis asks with an arch of his eyebrow, lust shining through his eyes.

 

“Bring it on, cowboy. Better hold on tight.”

 

Louis scoots closer to Nick’s groin and lifts up onto his knees, his right hand holding Nick’s cock in place. Nick’s hands go to grasp Louis’ hips, but are immediately slapped away.

 

“Now, now. We’ll be having none of that tonight.”

 

Louis releases his grip, Nick’s cock bobbing in the air. He leans forward and grips Nick’s wrists in his left hand and lifts them above Nick’s head, pressing them solidly into the pillows. He stares hard into Nick’s eyes, challenging him to lower his arms from their current spot.

 

“Just for extra measure,” Louis begins, bending at his side to pick up the scarf he had momentarily placed on the bed. “I don’t want to hear another word from you.” He crumples the fabric into a ball and hovers it above Nick’s mouth. Louis places his right thumb on Nick’s chin and lowers his jaw, his warm breath fanning over Louis’ knuckles. Obediently, Nick allows Louis to gag him.

 

Deeming everything to be satisfactory, Louis shifts back to his previous spot and picks Nick’s cock back up. He lowers himself slowly on the head, letting his body accommodate to the thickness. Louis breaths slowly and deeply, forcing his body to relax and enjoy the uncomfortable, but pleasurable feeling. Several beats pass, Nick’s eyes transfixed, until gravity prevails and Louis naturally sinks lower, more of Nick’s shaft disappearing into Louis.

 

The rhythm is long and slow, Louis taking his time to enjoy the fullness inside of him, his head thrown back in bliss, the column of his tan neck sweaty and exposed. He swivels his hips in an exaggerated figure eight, giving Nick a teasing show as much as seeking out his orgasm. His fingers toy at the patch of hair evenly covering Nick’s lower stomach, Louis’ swollen cock curving deliciously and swaying in time with his gyrations. The prodding of his fingers causes Nick to shift under him.

 

“Murrr--”

 

Louis snaps his attention to Nick’s face, his excruciating pace never faltering. The fabric, now damp with Nick’s saliva, barely moves with Nick’s attempted speech.

 

“Pardon?”

 

Nick rolls his neck to look at Louis heavily, his arms flexed but still staunchly in place. Louis taps the side of Nick’s pale thigh as a sign.

 

“Up.”

 

Nick plants his feet and bends his knees, creating an obtuse triangle with his legs. Louis reaches behind him, his back slightly arching as his hands grasp Nick’s kneecaps for leverage.

 

The air in the room thickens with urgency as Louis uses his flexed biceps against Nick’s kneecaps to lift himself nearly all the way off of Nick’s dick, only to immediately slam down. Louis whines loudly, Nick matching him with low moans from the back of his throat.

 

“Oh God...yes. Fuck.” escapes from Louis’ mouth, his eyes glued to the ceiling.

 

Louis is determined now, overwhelmed with his current position and the opportunities it presents. The slapping of skin grows louder in Louis’ ears with each downward motion, the echoing in the room sounding straight from a porn film.  

 

The rocking of his body seems to drive Nick further and further into Louis. Louis seesaws the lower half of his body, left to right, in an attempt to seek out his prostate. His oscillations are rewarded when lighting suddenly shoots up his spine, the air briefly knocked out of his lungs. He persists, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration.

 

A whimper is forced out of Louis’ mouth on a particularly gratifying bump of Nick’s pronounced cockhead.

 

“I’m cl--” Another whine. “Close. So close. You better be, too.” Nick lifts his head up to look at their joined bodies, the skin under his chin bunching up. “If not, get there.” Louis commands.

 

Nick lets his head drop back down to the pillows and uses his planted feet to power his hips and thighs to drive into Louis’s heat, chasing his orgasm.

 

Louis lurches forward abruptly and comes hard, four threads of creamy white marking up Nick’s chest and up to the very corners of his gagged mouth. Louis maintains his speed and position long enough for Nick to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut, his hips lifting off of the bed as he pounds twice into Louis, before filling up the condom.

 

Time seems to slow as they pant and gasp, sucking in gulps of air to lower their heart rates. The slick, squishing sounds of semen stirring inside of Louis from Nick’s dick popping free from Louis’ rim mix in with their inhales, as Louis slides off of Nick.

 

“Time to clean up.” Louis states matter of factly.

 

Nick finally lowers his arms and removes his scarf, flinging it across the room towards his discarded shoes. Louis lobs his right leg over and straddles Nick’s collarbones, his back facing Nick’s head. Louis bends over and exposes his stretched hole, much like they started at the beginning of their night. Louis is more relaxed this go around, almost all of his stress and energy fucked out of him. Nick grips his hips and pulls Louis the last couple of inches to his mouth, Louis practically sitting on his face. His lips attach without preamble, his tongue decisive in its mission to clean up the excess lube from the wide opening. It only takes a couple of swipes and slurps, but it is still enough to give Nick’s dick a semi-interested twitch.

 

Louis rolls off of Nick for a final time, his hands resting in the middle of his chest, sweat starting to cool on his skin.

 

“That was... intense, Louis.” Nick finally says, out of breath, the most genuine statement he has uttered all evening. Louis hums in agreement.

 

They are content in the silence that follows for the next few minutes, Louis on the verge of dozing off.

 

Suddenly, Nick yawns loudly and lengthens his lithe body in a head to toe stretch.

 

“Well, thanks for another lovely romp in the sheets. You know how I’d love to stay, but I’m afraid I have plans first thing in the morning. Besides, you and I both know we sleep better apart.”

 

“You do realise you could’ve left five minutes ago instead of forcing me to listen to the god awful Manc accent, right? Get out of here, for fuck’s sake.”

  
Nick gathers his things and reassembles them on his body, all except for his scarf, which he stuffs into his left trouser pocket. He throws a glance over his shoulder. “Always a pleasure, sweet cheeks.” He says in place of a proper farewell, the clink of his shoes the last thing Louis hears before his door and eyelids close. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi at [ whitechimes ](%E2%80%9Dwhitechimes.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)! Comments and feedback are always ALWAYS welcome. 
> 
> <3


End file.
